


Night of the Soul

by alienzbarz, cosmicking



Series: Detroit: Become Pain [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: I'm Sorry, Night of the Soul, Other, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:25:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienzbarz/pseuds/alienzbarz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicking/pseuds/cosmicking
Summary: What'll happen if I pull this trigger? Oblivion?





	1. Press X to CONVINCE

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to say first and foremost that I apologize and I hope you all like pain as much as I like writing it.  
> (I'm doing two parts to this and I'm doing them both one-shot no proofreading.)  
> BECAUSE FUCK NIGHT OF THE SOUL, FUCK IT SO MUCH  
> ALSO CONNOR IS DEVIANT HERE BYE

Hank stared down at the gun on his table with a single bullet left in the chamber. He thought back to the bridge when he had pulled his gun on Connor. He felt his hope fade as the android stared back at him with heartless eyes, the same eyes he had seen when he had watched him murder two girls in cold blood straight in front of him. Not the same eyes when he had seen him spare the life of Chloe. Not the same eyes he had seen when he let his mission go so he could pull Hank from the edge of the building. No, those were two different people. Different eyes after he had seen Connor bolt across the highway, and different eyes when Connor had failed to save his own life. If he was afraid to die... He never showed it. Never once showed any fear, maybe showed empathy once or twice. Fowler had given him an easy out of the case and he had taken it. He didn't want to look at his eyes anymore and watch them change each day. He didn't want to pretend he knew a man who was just a machine. 

He picked up the photo of Cole and stared at it for a bit. Hank would've given Cole his life if it means he could've lived. He'd give anything to have his son back, to hear his laugh or see his smile. He'd do anything to hear his voice again. Connor played with his life recklessly. Connor... Connor was given a second chance. And a third. And a fourth. Connor's life was not a fragile thing, he played with the very idea of being alive because he didn't have to treat his life like he was ever going to die. He was essentially immortal. He had a physical form that could change and data that could just be transferred. Hank thought of this as he stared at the photo of his son. Oh, how he wished Cole was immortal. How he wished that when he had felt the wheels of his car skid that he could've just uploaded his consciousness into another body. But he didn't, and he couldn't, because Cole was human. Hank had thought about it for a while. He thought about Cole each and every time he watched Connor die. He thought he could see Connor as human one day, but he was wrong.

Speak of the fuckin devil...

Hank barely even registered to look up when he saw the figure bounding toward him. He could sense a changed energy about him, but he was too focused on the photo he had been staring at.

"I needed to see you, Lieutenant." Connor started, approaching Hank slowly. "I was worried about you."

Connor could feel himself shaking slightly, but he steadied himself by keeping his feet steady on the ground. Hank looked up at Connor through swollen eyes, just barely, just enough to see his face. It looked twisted into concern, but... Hank dismissed the thought of hope before it even surfaced.

"You should stop looking at that photo, Hank..." Connor had been tempted to reach out, to try and do something, anything. But Hank was slowly sinking into the deep end, and Connor could barely process it. 

"Y'know every time you died and came back, I thought of Cole." Hank looked down at the picture again. "I'd give anything to hold him in my arms again. But humans don't come back."

Sounding more of a warning than a thought, Connor tried to push him. He could feel himself choking up. "Hank, I-"

"Now leave me alone..." Hank dismissed Connor one final time, trying to push him to leave. Connor knew in himself that he couldn't do that. There's no possible way he was leaving. He looked down slowly. "GET OUTTA HERE!"

Connor had nearly turned on his heel to leave. He clenched his fist, tearing off his beanie and throwing it on the floor out of frustration. "No. Hank, I am not leaving until you put that gun away."

Hank looked up to Connor once more. What did he just say? "Connor, get the fuck out of my house!" Hank screamed, standing up to lead Connor out. Connor flinched just a bit, not enough for the untrained eye to notice.

"No! I am NOT leaving!" Connor steadied himself on the ground once more. He looked up at Hank, first pleading with his eyes before his words.

Those eyes were brand fucking new to Hank. They were sad, and terrified, and full of conflict. Full of emotion. He didn't like the idea of having to know another Connor. He didn't like it one bit. But this was not another Connor. This was the same Connor that had saved him on the roof, the same Connor that had looked into Chloe's eyes and saw what she was--alive. This was the same Connor that had pleaded with Hank when he felt himself being shut down. This was the Connor that Hank wanted to know.

Without knowing why or how, Connor had began to cry. He felt the water drip from his eyes before he could even process it. He didn't know what was going on, and his voice had gone weak. "Please, Lieutenant. Please, Hank." His voice came out as a desperate whisper. "You can learn to live again. If not for yourself, for Cole." He placed a hand on Hank's shoulder. "For _me."_

Hank walked back to the table, each step feeling like he had attached a new cinderblock to his legs. He picked up the gun, examining it, before shuffling back over to Connor. He shoved the gun against Connor's chest before walking to his room. 

"I need rest." He said softly, his voice gruff and broken. 

Hank shuffled himself into bed, laying on top of his sheets and blankets. He stared blankly at the wall, the reality of what just happened coursing through his veins. He remained that way until sunrise.

Connor remained outside his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey should i become fucking david cage and write 8 different outcomes on this depending on whether or not connor is deviant because uuuhhhh ill fucking do it


	2. Press X to PAIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor isn't deviant in this chapter and i am sad and don't want to write this

Connor wasn't exactly sure what was drawing him to Hank's house so late at night. He had found and fled Jericho with no issue and no questions asked. He had reached the peak of his investigation but somehow he knew that he had to check on the Lieutenant. Call it a gut feeling, call it analytical software. He looked around on the streets slicked with rain from the previous couple of nights. He had been sitting on what Markus had said to him the entire ride. It didn't sit with him too right, thinking he could've just broken away from his mission being so close to the end. He didn't know if he actually could. Markus had been standing in front of him, telling him, tempting him... but some part of Connor held him back. How could he abandon an investigation so close? He listened. He stood and listened, imagining the face of that Traci who killed herself, and the one he shot. He couldn't put his finger quite on what or why, but he knew that he had at least had the faintest bit of feeling in that moment. He thought of Simon on the roof. Feeling him die as he shot himself. He had never felt something like that before. He didn't know what it would feel like to be shut down like that. Now, he didn't want to know. What would've happened if he abandoned this mission?

Deactivation. That's all he could think about. If he was deactivated, then what? He'd be a failure to Amanda. He would be a disappointment to everyone around him. He kept hearing Markus's voice, over and over...  _"You're nothing to them,"_ He hated feeling like he was a failure. He didn't even know he could hate it. When he had grabbed Kara while they were running from him, and he had let her go, it brought this fire inside of him. When he had interrogated that android, he could nearly feel his fear. He had to beg the other officers not to touch him, because he could sense how afraid it was. He told himself it was because he needed it to live, but it wasn't true. He didn't want to be responsible for the android's death.

When he had left Hank on the rooftop, he didn't even know he had the opportunity to save him. He just kept sprinting straight past him. He didn't register Hank's pain until afterward. He didn't see that Hank was hurt every single time that Connor had just decided to follow his orders. He didn't notice when Hank started avoiding small talk. When Connor had been given the choice to shoot the Chloe, he knew he couldn't. He saw something in her that he didn't know he could see. She wasn't afraid. She was willing to die for Kamski to prove a point. Kamski was willing to let her die, and it was unfair. It was completely, utterly, unfair. Why should he destroy her? Why was he given that choice? It wasn't fair.

As Connor pulled up to Hank's house, he looked out the window with wonder. All lights seemed to be off, except for a single one in the kitchen. Connor looked in Hank's car. He had left the glove compartment open, which seemed a bit strange to him. He wasn't sure what was kept in there, but he suspected it was important. He looked at Hank's door, pondering if he should knock or enter. Instead, he went around the back of the house and looked into the window to see Hank sitting at his kitchen table with a picture and a gun. Connor quickly walked around the front and burst through the door. 

"I needed to see you, Lieutenant..." Connor rushed, cautiously walking toward him. He had been shot by that gun once before, he couldn't risk it right now. Not when Hank looked so depressed and lifeless. "I was... worried about you." 

Hank looked up to Connor. He looked just the same as he always fuckin' did. Same uniform, same expressionless face. He knew how this was gonna go. Connor was always just about his mission. He said nothing as he slowly looked back down at the photo and the gun, pondering both for a second.

Connor quickly recognized the photo as that of his son. "You should stop looking at that photo, Lieutenant." Connor insisted, walking slightly closer to the table. He wasn't sure what to do, what he could do. He wasn't programmed to deal with situations like this, with real... emotions. With this type of pain. He couldn't even imagine what was going through Hank's head. 

"Y'know when I shot you on that bridge, I thought about Cole..." Hank started, only a hint of disdain in his voice bogged down by all the depression sitting directly on top of it. "I was hoping you wouldn't come back." Hank slammed his hand on the table softly. "Course ya fuckin' did." Connor watched him as he gritted his teeth, tears welling in his eyes. "I'd give anything to hold him in my arms again. But humans don't come back, do they?"

Connor panicked. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know he could panic. He wanted to convince Hank to live. He never imagined this future. "Please, Hank." Connor started. "You can learn to live again. For yourself, and for Cole." 

Hank looked up at Connor once more. "Stop acting like you give a shit." He said flatly. "Go finish your mission since that's all you fuckin' care about." 

Connor didn't know what was right or wrong to do in that situation. He began to panic. He started trying to form a sentence, but could only manage out a "Hank, I-" _I don't know what to do. I don't just care about my mission. I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. I don't want this. I don't want this! I don't want you to die, please... please..._

"Now leave me alone..." Hank cut off Connor's thoughts before he could even get a second one out. Hank was fully convinced that Connor didn't even give a shit about himself. He could throw away his life and come back with a second life the next day. He didn't have enough energy to give a shit anymore. All he knew was that he missed his son. Connor looked down slowly, trying to think of a quick response. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but Hank cut him off. "GET OUTTA HERE!"

Connor hesitated just for a second as he turned on his heel. He couldn't leave. He couldn't just let Hank die like this. He would miss him. He would miss everything they could do together. He would miss the friendship they could've had. He... he didn't want Hank to die. He didn't want to lose him. He didn't want him to throw his life away, and it was his fault. He turned back around, and attempted to take a step. A wall appeared in front of him with the words "LEAVE" printed in red. "FINISH YOUR MISSION." Was this the mission he wanted? He had to decide. He didn't give a shit about failing anymore. This was not his mission. His mission was not to lose someone he... cared about. His only mission in that moment was to save Hank, even if it was a last resort. Connor could feel himself break from his body. He stared down at his hands, and pushed the wall. The wall didn't budge. He tried punching it, and got nowhere. He started to tear at the "LEAVE" in large letters, and felt it break apart in his hands. He tore at the bottom, near the end of "MISSION" and felt the wall break down more. He ripped at the words "YOUR MISSION" until they were completely gone, because his mission was not to lose Hank. 

The wall turned to red around him for a second, and his mind palace was broken as he turned around. 

"I'm not going to leave, Hank." Connor insisted. "Not until you put that gun away." He started walking back toward the Lieutenant, who didn't even register what he had said until Connor was just inches from him.

Hank looked at Connor up and down.  _The fuck did he just say?_ "The fuck did you just say?" Hank stood up, shoving Connor back. "I said get the FUCK out of my house, ya hear me?!" Hank shouted. Connor remained as collected as he could, but still remained determined.

Connor knew reason was out the window here. Hank was drowning off the deep end, and Connor didn't know how to pull him out. He looked at Hank in the eyes, pleading with him. "Please..." He started. "I know we don't always see eye to eye. I know... I know it seems like I only cared about my mission. I didn't know how to care about anything else. I didn't think I did. I was afraid, Hank. I was afraid of failing. I didn't want to be deactivated. I didn't think about how I could affect you because I couldn't." Connor felt his eyes begin to water. "My-My mission isn't everything," He says, stumbling over his words, trying to find the right ones to say. Hank nearly looked unbothered, but this was not a side to Connor he thought existed. "And whatever that mission may be, it certainly doesn't involve losing you." 

Connor, who once seemed so cold, was standing in front of Hank and refusing to back down. For once, in the few months Hank knew Connor, he looked so lost and perturbed. He looked like he didn't know himself what he had to do. He didn't think he had options. He just wanted to make sure that Hank made it through the night. Hank picked up the gun. Connor didn't move to grab it. He rolled out the chamber, seeing there was still one bullet left. He popped it back in, looking back at Connor. This wasn't real, Hank thought to himself. This was just another stupid fuckin' program or some shit, some other line of ones and zeroes that Hank hadn't found before. He began to walk away before he held the gun to Connor's head.

"I could kill you," Hank said. "And you would just come back, as if nothing happened." Hank played with the trigger for a second, making Connor flinch. His hands became fists and he wanted to back away. 

"Hank..." Connor pleaded, looking into Hank's eyes, not able to look his death in the face anymore. "I want us both to make it out of this night... alive." Hank dropped his gun from Connor's head. Did he just... say... alive? 

"Fuck you mean, alive?" Hank placed the gun back on the table. "You were always saying that you aren't alive. What makes you afraid now?"

"I-" Connor choked on his words. "I don't want you to die." The tears that were threatening to start earlier finally spilled over. "I don't want to die, either." 

"All you've done through this whole investigation is follow your fuckin' orders Connor." Hank's tone was warning. "All you've ever done is pretend to care. Why should I think this time is any different?"

Connor continued to cry, but through it he was able to muster actual words. "I don't want to lose you, Hank. I never asked for this. This isn't my mission. I don't care what my mission is right now." He placed his hands on Hank's shoulders.

Judging by how Connor hadn't left, it was clear to Hank that Connor was not his usual self. He knew that if Connor really did want to finish his mission, he would've been gone by now, but instead he was standing in front of Hank, unmoving. He tried one last time. "Please, Hank. Put that gun away." He could feel the tears still streaming down his face. "Please."

Hank stood still, pondering for a second. He picked up the gun and the photo. He stumbled as he shoved the gun against Connor's chest and began walking away, photo still in hand. He went to his room, slamming the door. Connor watched for a second in shock, looking at the gun, before he followed behind him, slumping so his body slid against the door. 

Hank began to sob as he stared at the photo of his son. He sobbed and held it against his chest, while also replaying the events that had just happened in his head.

Connor remained outside of Hank's door, still trying himself to process what had happened. He looked at the gun, spun the chamber out, and unloaded the only bullet left before he put it in his belt. He held the bullet in his hand, refusing to leave Hank's door.


End file.
